ABSENCE OF MIND.

AN Absent Man is generally either a very weak, or a very affected man; he is, how­ever, a very disagreeable man in company. He is defective in all the common offices of civility; he does not enter into the general conversation, but breaks into it from time to time, with some starts of his own, as if he waked from a dream. He seems wrapt up in thought, and possibly does not think at all: he does not kno [...] his most inti­mate acquaintance by sight, or answers them as if he were at cross-purposes. He leaves his hat in one room, his cane in another, an [...] would pro­bably leave his shoes in a third if his buckles, though awry, did not save them. This is a sure indication, either of a mind so weak that it can­not bear above one object at a time; or so affect­ed, that it would be supposed to be wholly en­grossed by some very great and important objects. Sir Isaac Newton, Mr. Locke, and perhaps five [Page 2] or six more since the Creation, may have had a right to absence, from the intense thought their investigations required; but such liberties cannot be claimed by, nor will be tolerated in, any other persons.

No man is, in any degree, fit for either business or conver [...]ation, who [...] comm [...]nd his attention [...] the p [...]t object, be [...] what i [...] [...] When I see a man ab [...]ent in mind, I c [...]ose to be absent in body; for it is almost impossible for me to stay in the room, as I cannot stand inattention and awkward­ness.

I would rather be in company with a dead man than with an absent one; for if the dead man affords me no pleasure, at least he shews me no contempt; whereas the absent man very plainly, though silently, tells me that he does not think me worth his attention. Besides, an absent man can never make any observations upon the cha­racters, customs, and manners of the company. He may be in the best companies all his life-time (if they will admit him), and never become the wiser: we may as well converse with a deaf man, as an absent one. It is indeed a practical blunder to address ourselves to a man, who, we plainly perceive, neither hears, minds, nor understands us.

ATTENTION.

A MAN is fit for neither business or pleasure, who either cannot, or does not command and direct his attention to the present object, and, in some degree, banish, for that time, all other objects from his thoughts. If at a ball, a sup­per, [Page 3] or a party of pleasure, a man were to be solving, in his own mind, a problem in Euclid, he would be a very bad companion, and make a poor figure in that company; or if, in studying a problem in his closet, he were to think of a minuet, I am apt [...]o believe that he would make a very poo [...] mathematician▪

There [...] [...]ame [...]ough for eve [...]ything, [...]n the course of the day, if you do but one [...] at [...]ce: but there is not time enough in the year, if you will do two things at a time.

This steady and undissipated attention to one ob­ject is a sure mark of a superior genius; as hurry, bustle, and agitation, are the never-failing symptoms of a weak and frivolous mind.

Indeed, without attention nothing is to be done: want of attention, which is really want of thought, is either folly or madness. You should not only have attention to every thing, but a quickness of attention, so as to observe, at once, all the people in the room, their motions, their looks, and their words; and yet, without staring at them, and seeming to be an observer. This quick and unobserved observation is of infinite advantage in life, and is to be acquired with care; and, on the contrary, what is called absence, which is a thoughtlessness and want of attention about what is doing, makes a man so like either a fool or a madman, that, for my part, I see no real difference. A fool never has thought; a madman has lost it; and an absent man is, for the time, without it.

In short, the most material knowledge of all, [...] mean the knowledge of the world, is never to be acquired without great attention: and I know many old people, who, though they have lived [Page 4] long in the world, are but children still as to the knowledge of it, from their levity and inattention. Certain forms, which all people comply with, and certain arts, which all people aim at, hide, in some degree, the truth, and g [...]ve a general exterior resem­blance to almost every body. Attention and sagacity must see through that veil, and discover the natural character.

Add to this, there are little att [...]ntions which are infinitely engaging, and which sensibly affect that degree of pride and self-love which is inseparable from human nature; a [...] they are unquestionable proofs of the regard and consideration which we have for the persons to whom we pay them. As for ex­ample: Suppose you invited any body to dine or sup with you, you ought to recollect if you had ob­served that they had any favourite dish, and take care to provide it for them: and when it came, you should say, ‘You seemed to me, at such and such a place, to give this dish a preference, and there­fore I ordered it.’ —This is the wine that I observ­ed you liked, and therefore I procured some." Again: Most people have their weaknesses; they have their aversions or their likings to such or such things. If we were to laugh at a man for his aversi­on to a cat or cheese (which are common antipathies) or, by inattention or negligence, to let them come in his way where we could prevent it; he would, in the first case, think himself insulted, and in the second, slighted; and would remember both. But, on the other hand, our care to procure for him what he likes, and to remove from him what he dislikes, shews him that he is at least an object of our atten­tion, flatters his vanity, and perhaps makes him more you [...] friend, than a more important service [Page 5] have done. The more trifling these things are, the more they prove your attention for the person, and are consequently the more engaging. Con­sult your own breast, and recollect how these lit­tle attentions, when shewn you by others, flatter that degree of self-love and vanity from which no man living is free. Reflect how they incline and attract you to that person, and how you are pro­pitiated afterwards to all which that person says or does. The same causes will have the same effects in your favour.

AWKWARDNESS OF DIFFERENT KINDS.

MANY very worthy and sensible people have certain odd tricks, ill habits, and awkward­nesses in their behaviour, which excite a disgust to, and dislike of their persons, that cannot be removed or overcome by any other valuable endowment or merit which they may possess.

Now awkwardness can proceed but from two [...]u­ses: either from not having kept good compa [...], or from not having attended to it.

When an awkward fellow first comes into a room, it is highly probale, that his sword gets between his legs, and throws him down, or makes him stumble, at least; when he has recovered th [...] accident, he goes and places himself in the very place of the whole room where he should not; there he soon lets his hat fall down, and in taking it up again, throws down his cane; in recover­ing his cane, his hat falls a second time; so that he [...] a quarter of an hour before he is in order [Page 6] again. If he drinks tea or coffee, he certainly scalds his mouth, and lets either the cup or the sacer fall, and spills the tea or coffee in his breeches. At dinner, his awkwardness distin­guishes itself particularly, as he has more to do; there he holds his knife, fork, and spoon, dif­ferently from other people; eats with his knife to the great danger of his mouth, picks his teeth with his fork, and puts his spoon, which has been in his throat twenty times, into the dishes again. If he is to carve, he can never hit the joint; but, in his vain efforts to cut through the bone, scatters the sauce in every body's face. He generally daubs himself with soup and grease, though his napkin is commonly stuck through a button-hole, and tickles his chin. When he drinks, he infallibly coughs in his glass, and be­sprinkles the company. Besides all this, he has strange tricks and gestures; such as snuffing up his nose, making faces, putting his fingers in his nose, or blowing it and looking afterwards in his handkerchief, so as to make the company sick. His hands are troublesome to him when he has not something in them, and he does not known where to put them; but they are in perpetual mo­tion between his bosom and his breeches: he does not wear his cloaths, and, in short, does nothing like other people. All this, I own, is not in any degree criminal; but it is highly disagreeable and ridiculous in company, and ought most care­fully to be avoided by whoever desires to please.

From this account of what you should not do, you may easily judge what you should do; and, a due attention to the manners of people of fa­shion, and who have seen the world, will make it habitual and familiar to you.

[Page 7]There is, likewise, an awkwardness of expres­sion and words most carefully to be avoided; such as false English, bad pronunciation, old sayings, and common proverbs; which are so many proofs of having kept bad and low com­pany. For example: If instead of saying, that ‘tastes are different, and that every man has his own peculiar one,’ you should let off a proverb, and say, that ‘what is one man's meat is another man's poison;’ or else, ‘every one as they like, as the good man said when he kissed his cow;’ every body would be per­suaded that you had never kept company with any body above footmen and housemaids.

There is likewise an awkwardness of the mind, that ought to be, and with care may be avoided; as, for instance, to mistake or forget names. To speak of Mr. What-d'ye-call Him, or Mrs. Thingum, or How-d'ye call Hear, is excessively awkward and ordinary. To call people by im­proper titles and appellations is so too; as, My Lord for Sir, and Sir for My Lord. To begin a story or a narration when you are not perfect in it, and cannot go through with it, but are forced, possibly, to say in the middle of it, ‘I have forgot the rest,’ is very unpleasant and bungling. One must be extremely exact, clear, and perspicuous in every thing one says; other­wise, instead of entertaining or informing others, one only tires and puzzles them.

BASHFULNESS.

BASHFULNESS is the distinguished character of an English booby, who appears fright­ened out of his wits if people of fashion speak [Page 8] to him, and blushes and stammers without being able to give a proper answer; by which means he becomes truly ridiculous, from the groundless fear of being laughed at.

There is a very material difference between mo­desty and an awkward bashfulness, which is as ridi­culous as true modesty is commendable▪ it is as ab­surd to be a simpleton as to be an impudent fellow; and we make ourselves contemptible, if we can­not come into a room and speak to people without being out of countenance, or without embarrass­ment. A man who is really diffident, timid, and bashful, be his merit what it will, never can push himself in the world; his despondency throws him into inaction, and the forward, the bustling, and the petulant, will always precede him. The manner makes the whole difference. What would be impudence in one man, is only a pro­per and decent assurance in another. A man of sense, and of knowledge of the world, will assert his own rights, and pursue his own objects, as steadily and intrepidly as the most impudent man living, and commonly more so; but then he has art enough to give an outward air of mo­desty to all he does. This engages and prevails, whilst the very same things shock and fail, from the over-bearing or impudent manner only of doing them.

Englishmen, in general, are ashamed of going into company. When we avoid singularity, what should we be ashamed of? And why should not we go into a mixed company with as much ease, and as little concern, as we would go into our own room? Vice and ignorance are the only things we ought to be ashamed of: while we keep clear of them, we may venture any where with­out [Page 9] fear or concern. Nothing sinks a young man into low company so surely as bashfulness. If he thinks that he shall not, he most surely will not please.

Some, indeed, from feeling the pain and in­conveniencies of bashfulness, have rushed into the other extreme, and turned impudent; as cowards sometimes grow desperate from excess of danger: but this is equally to be avoided, there be­ [...]ng nothing more generally shocking than impu­dence. The medium between these two extremes points out the well-bred man, who always feels him­self firm and easy in all companies; who is modest without being bashful, and steady without being im­pudent.

A mean fellow is ashamed and embarrassed when he comes into company, is disconcerted when spoken to, answers with difficulty, and does not know how to dispose of his hands; but a gentleman who is acquainted with the world, ap­pears in company with a graceful and proper assurance, and is perfectly easy and unembar­rassed. He is not dazzled by superior rank; he pays all the respect that is due to it, with­out being disconcerted; and can converse as easily with a king as with any one of his subjects. This is the great advantage of being introduced young into good company, and of conversing with our superiors. A well-bred man will con­vese with his inferiors without insolence, and with his superiors with respect, and with ease. Add to this, that a man of a gentleman like be­haviour, though of inferior parts, is better re­ceived than a man of superior abilities, who is unac­quainted with the world. Modesty and a polite easy assurance should be united.

COMPANY.

TO keep good company, especially at your first setting out is the way to receive good im­pressions. Good company is not what respective sets of company are pleased either to call or think themselves. It consists chiefly (though not wholly) of people of considerable birth, rank, and cha­racter; for people of neither birth nor rank are frequently and very justly admitted into it, if distinguished by any peculiar merit, or eminency in any liberal art or science. So motly a thing is good company, that many people, without birth, rank, or merit, intrude into it by their own forwardness, and others get into it by the protection of some considerable person. In this fashionable good company, the best manners and the purest language are most unquestionably to be learned: for they establish and give the TON to both, which are called the language and man­ners of good company, neither of them being as­certained by any legal tribunal.

A company of people of the first quality can­not be called good company, in the common ac­ceptation of the phrase, unless they are the fashi­onable and accredited company of the place; for people of the first quality can be as silly, as ill-bred, and as worthless, as people of the meanest degree: and a company, consisting wholly of people of very low condition, what­ever their merit or talents may be, can never be called good company; and therefore should not be much frequented, though by no means des­pised.

[Page 11]A company wholly composed of learned men, though greatly to be respected, is not meant by the words good company: they cannot have the easy and polished manners of the world, as they do not live in it. If we can bear our parts well in such a company, it will be proper to be in it sometimes, and we shall be more esteemed in other companies for having a place in that.

A company consisting wholly of professed wits and poets, is very inviting to young men who are pleased with it, if they have wit themselves; and if they have none, are foolishly proud of being one of it. But such companies should be frequented with moderation and judgment. A wit is a very unpopular denomination, as it car­ries terror along with it; and people are as much afraid of a wit in company as a woman is of a gun, which she supposes may go off of itself, and do her a mischief. Their acquaintance, however, is worth seeking, and their company worth fre­quenting; but not exclusively of others, nor to such a degree as to be considered only as one of that parti­cular set.

Above all things, endeavour to keep company with people above you; for there you rise, as much as you sink with people below you. When I say company above you, I do not mean with regard to their birth, but with regard to their merit, and the light in which the world considers them.

There are two sorts of good company; one which is called the BEAU MONDE, and consists of those people who have the lead in cour [...]s, and in the gay part of life; the other consists of those who are distinguished by some peculiar merit, or [Page 12] who excel in some particular or valuable art or science.

Be equally careful to avoid that low company which, in every sense of the word, is low indeed; low i [...] rank, low in parts, low in manners, and low in merit. Vanity that source of many of our fol­lies, and of some of [...]r crimes, has sunk many a man into company in every light infinitely below him, for the sake of being the first man in it. There he dictates, is applauded, and admired; but he soon disgraces himself, and disqualifies himself for any bet­ter company.

Having thus pointed out what company you should avoid, and what company you should associate with, I shall next lay down a few CAUTIONS TO BE OBSERVED IN ADOP­TING THE MANNERS OF A COMPANY.

WHEN a young man, new in the world, first gets into company, he determine [...] to conform to and imitate it. But he too often mistakes the ob­ject of his imitation. He has frequently heard the absurd term of genteel and fashionable vices. He there observes some people who shine, and who in general are admired and esteemed; and perceives that these people are rakes, drunkards, or gamesters; he therefore adopts their vices, mistaking their defects for their perfections, and imagining that they owe their fashion and their l [...]stre to these genteel vices. But it is exactly the reverse; for these people have acquired their reputation by their parts, their learning, their good-breeding, and other real accomplishments: and are only blemished and lowered in the opi­nions [Page 13] of all reasonable people by these general and fashionable vices. It is therefore plain that, in these mixed characters, the good part only makes people forgive, but not approve the bad.

If a man should, unfortunately, have any vices, he ought at least to be content with his own, and not adopt other people's. The adoption of vice has ruined ten times more young men, than natural inclinations.

Let us imitate the real perfections of the good company into which we may get; copy their po­liteness, their carriage, their address, and the easy and well-bred turn of their conversation; [...] we s [...]ould remember, that, let them shine [...] [...]ght, their vices, if they have any, are [...] blemishes, which we should no more en [...] [...] to imitate, than we would make arti­ficial [...]arts upon our faces, because some very handsome man had the misfortune to have a na­tural one upon his. We should, on the contra­ry, think how much handsomer he would have been without it.

Having thus given you instructions for making you well received in good company, I proceed next to lay before you, what you will find of equal use and importance in your commerce with the world, some directions, or

RULES FOR CONVERSATION.

ECONOMY.

A FOOL squanders away, without credit or advantage to himself, more than a man of sense spends with both. The latter employs his money as he does his time, and never spends a shilling of the one, nor a minute of the other, but in something that is either useful or rationally pleasing to himself or others. The former buys whatever he does not want, and does not pay for what he does want. He cannot with­stand [Page 26] the charms of a toy-shop▪ snuff [...]boxes, watch­es, heads of canes, &c. are his destruction. His servants and tradesmen conspire with his own indo­lence to cheat him: and, in a very little time, he is astonished, in the midst of all the ridiculous super­fl [...]i [...]ies, to find himself in want of all the real com­forts and necessaries of life.

Without care and method, the largest fortune will not, and with them almost the smallest will supply all necessary expences. As far as you can possibly, pay ready money for every thing you buy, and avoid bills. Pay that money too yourself, and not through the hands of any servant; who always either stipulates poundage, or requires a present for his good word, as they call it. Where you must have bills (as for meat and drink, clothes, &c.) pay them re­gularly every month, and with your own hand. Ne­ver from a mistaken economy, buy a thing you do not want, because it is cheap; or, from a silly pride because it is dear. Keep an account, in a book, of all that you receive, and of all that you pay; for no man who knows what he receives, and what he pays, ever runs out. I do not mean that you should keep an account of the shillings and half-crowns which you may spend in chair-hire, operas, &c. they are unwor­thy of the time, and the ink, that they would con­sume; leave such minutiae to dull, penny-wise fel­lo [...]: but remember, in economy, as well as in every other part of life, to have the proper attention to proper objects, and the proper contempt for little ones.

FRIENDSHIP.

YOUNG persons have commonly an unguarded frankness about them, which makes them the easy prey and bubbles of the artful and expe­rienced: they look upon every knave or fool who tells them that he is their friend, to be really so; and pay that profession of simulated friendship with an indiscreet and unbounded confidence, always to their loss, often to their ruin. Beware of these proffered friendships. Receive them with great civility, but with great incredulity too; and pay them with compliments, but not with confidence. Do not suppose that people become friends at first sight, or even upon a short acquaint­ance. Real friendship is a slow grower; and never thrives, unless ingrafted upon a stock of known and reciprocal merit.

There is another kind of nominal friendship among young people, which is warm for the time, but luckily of short duration. This friend­ship is hastily produced, by their being acciden­tally thrown together, and pursuing the same course of riot and debauchery. A fine friend­ship, truly! and well cemented by drunkenness and lewdness. It should rather be called a con­spiracy against morals and good manners, and be punished as such by the civil magistrate. How­ever, they have the impudence and the folly to call this confederacy a friendship. They lend one another money for bad purposes; they en­gage in quarrels, offensive and defensive, for their accomplices; they tell one another all they know, and often more too; when of a sudden, [Page 28] some accident disperses them, and they think no more of each other, unless it be to betray and laugh at their imprudent confidence.

When a man uses strong protestations or oaths to make you believe a thing, which is of itself so probable that the bare saying of it would be sufficient, depend upon it he deceives you, and is highly interested in making you believe it, or else he would not take so much pains.

Remember to make a great difference between companions and friends; for a very complaisant and agreeable companion may, and often does, prove a very improper and a very dangerous friend. People will, in a great degree, form their opinion of you, upon that which they have of your friends; and there is a Spanish pro­verb, which says very justly, ‘Tell me who you live with, and I will tell you who you are.’ One may fairly suppose, that a man who makes a knaves or a fool his friend, has some thing very bad to do, or to conceal. But at the same time that you carefully decline the friendship of knaves and fools, if it can be called friendship, there is no occasion to make either of them your enemies, wantonly and un­provoked; for they are numerous bodies; and I would rather chuse a secure neutrality, than alli­ance or war with either of them. You may be a declared enemy to their vices and follies, without being marked out by them as a personal one. Their enmity is the next dangerous thing to their friendship. Have a real reserve with almost every body; and have a seeming reserve with al­most nobody; for it is very disagreeable to seem reserved, and very dangerous not to be so. Few people find the true medium: many are ridicu­lously [Page 29] mysterious and reserved upon trifles; and many imprudently communicative of all they know.

GOOD-BREEDING.

GOOD-BREEDING has been very justly de­fined to be ‘the result of much good-sense, some good-nature, and a little self-denial for the sake of others, and with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them.’

Good-breeding alone can prepossess people in our favour at first sight; more time being neces­sary to discover greater talents. Good-breeding, however, does not consist in low bows and formal ceremony; but in an easy, civil, and respectful be­haviour.

Indeed, good-sense in many cases must deter­mine good-breeding; for what would be civil at one time, and to one person, would be rude at another time, and to another person; there are, however, some general rules of good-breeding. As for example: To answer only Yes, or No, to any person, without adding, Sir, My Lord, or Madam (as it may happen), is always ex­tremely rude; and it is equally so not to give proper attention and a civil answer when spoken to: such behaviour convinces the person who is speaking to us, that we despise him, and do not think him worthy of our attention, or an an­swer.

A well-bred person will take care to answer with complaisance when he is spoken to; will place himself at the lower end of the table, un­less [Page 30] bid to go higher; will first drink to the lady of the house, and then to the master; he will not eat awkwardly or dirtily, nor sit when other stand; and he will do all this with an air of complaisance, and not with a grave ill natured look, as if he did it all unwillingly.

There is nothing more difficult to attain, or so necessary to possess, as perfect good-breeding; which is equally inconsistent with a stiff formality, an impertinent forwardness, and an awkward bashfulness. A little ceremony is sometimes ne­cessary; a certain degree of firmness is absolutely so; and an outward modesty is extremely be­coming.

Virtue and learning, like gold, have their in­trinsic value; but if they are not polished, they certainly lose a great deal of their lustre; and even polished brass will pass upon more people than rough gold. What a number of sins does the chearful, easy, good-breeding of the French fre­quently cover!

My Lord Bacon says, ‘That a pleasing figure is a perpetual letter of recommendation.’ It is certainly an agreeable sore-runner of merit and smooths the way for it.

A man of good-breading should be acquainted with the forms and particular customs of courts. At Vienna, men always make curtsies, instead of bows, to the Emperor: in France, nobody bows to the King, or kisses his hand; but in Spain and England, bows are made, and hands are kissed. Thus every court has some peculiarity, which those who visit them ought previously to inform themselves of, to avoid blund [...]rs and awkward­nesses.

[Page 31]Very few, scarcely any, are wanting in the respect which they should shew to those whom they acknowledge to be infinitely their superiors. The man of fashion, and of the world, expresses it in its fullest extent; but naturally, easily, and without concern: whereas a man who is not used to keep good company, expresses it awkwardly; one sees that he is not used to it, and that it costs him a great deal: but I never saw the worst-bred man living guilty of [...]olling, whistling, scratching his head, and such like indecencies in company that [...] respected. In such companies, therefore, the only point to be attended to is to shew that respect which every body means to shew, in an easy, unembarrass­ed, and graceful manner.

In mixed companies, whoever is admitted to make part of them, is, for the time at least, supposed to be upon a footing of equality with the rest; and consequently, every one claims, and very justly, every mark of civility and good-breeding. Ease is allowed, but carelessness and negligence are strictly forbidden. If a man ac­costs you, and talks to you ever so dully or fri­volously, it is worse than rudeness, it is bruta­lity, to shew him, by a manifest inattention to what he says, that you think him a fool or a blockhead, and not worth hearing. It is much more so with regard to women; who, of what­ever rank they are, are intitled, in consideration of their sex, not only to an attentive, but an offi­cious good-breeding from men. Their little wants, likings, dislikes, preferences, antipathies, fancies, whims, and even impertinencies, must be officiously attended to, flattered, and, if pos­sible, guessed at and anticipated by a well-bred man. You must never usurp to yourself those [Page 32] conveniencies and agremens which are of com­mon right; such as the best places, the best dishes, &c. but, on the contrary, always decline them yourself, and offer them to others; who, in their turns, will offer them to you; so that, upon the whole, you will, in your turn, enjoy your share of common right.

The third sort of good-breeding is local, and is variously modified in not only different coun­tries, but in different towns of the same country. But it must be founded upon the two former sorts▪ they are the matter, to which, in this case, fashion and custom only give the different shapes and impressions. Whoever has the first two sorts will easily acquire this third sort of good-breed­ing, which depends singly upon attention and observation. It is properly the polish, the lustre, the last finishing strokes of good-breeding. A man of sense, therefore, carefully attends to the local manners of the respective places where he is, and takes for his models those persons whom he observes to be at the head of the fashion and good-breeding. He watches how they address themselves to their superiors, how they accost their equals and how they treat their inferiors; and lets none of those little niceties escape him, which are to good-breading what the last delicate and masterly touches are to a good picture, and which the vulgar have no notion of, but by which good judges distinguish the master. He attends even to their air, dress, and motions, and imitates them liberally, and not fervilely: he copies, but does not mimic. These personal graces are of very great consequence. They anticipate the sentiments before merit can engage the under­standing; they captivate the heart, and give rise. [Page 33] I believe, to the extravagant notions of Charms and Philtres. Their effects were so surprising, that they were reckoned supernatural.

In short, as it is necessary to possess learning, honour, and virtue, to gain the esteem and admi­ration of mankind, so politeness and good-breeding are equally necessary to render us agreeable in con­versation and common life. Great talents are above the generality of the world, who neither possess them themselves, nor are competent judges of them in others: but all are judges of the lesser talents, such as civility, affability, and an agreeable address and manner; because they feel the good effects of them, as making society easy and agreeable.

To conclude: be assured that the pr [...]ounde [...] learning, without good-breeding, is unwelcome and tiresome pedantry; that a man who is not perfect­ly well-bred is unfit for good company, and unwel­come in it; and that a man who is not well-bred is full as unfit for business as for company.

Make then good-breeding the great object of your thoughts and actions. Observe carefully the behaviour and manners of those who are distinguish­ed by their good-breeding: imitate, nay, endeavou [...] to excel, that you may at least reach them; and be convinced that good-breeding is to all worldly quali­fications, what charity is to all christian virtues. Ob­serve how it adorns merit, and how often it covers the want of it.

GRACES.

KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD.

WE should endeavour to hoard up, while we are young, a great stock, of knowledge; for though during that time of dissipation we may not have occasion to spend much of it, yet a time will come when we shall want it to maintain us.

The knowledge of the world is only to be ac­quired in the world, and not in a closet. Books alone will never teach it you; but they will sug­gest many things to your observation, which might otherwise escape you; and your own obser­vations upon mankind, when compared with those which you will find in books, will help you to fix the true point.

[Page 50]To know mankind well▪ requires full as much attention and application as to know books, and it may be, more sagacity and discernment. I am at this time acquainted with many elderly people, who have all passed their whole lives in the great world, but with such levity and inatten­tion, that they know no more of it now than they did at fifteen. Do not flatter yourself, therefore, with the thoughts that you can acquire this know­ledge in the frivolous chit-chat of idle compa­nies; no, you must go much deeper than that, You must look into people as well as at them. Search, therefore, with the greatest care, into th [...] character of all those whom you converse with; endeavour to discover their predominant pa [...]ons, their prevailing weaknesses, their vanities, their follies, and their humours; with all the right and wrong, wise and silly springs of human actions, which make such inconsistent and whimsical beings of us ra­tional creatures.

There are no persons so insignificant and incon­siderable, but may, some time or other, and in something or other, have it in their power to be of use to you; which they certainly will not, if you have once shewn them contempt. Wrongs are often forgiven, but contempt never is. Our pride remembers it for ever. Remember, there­fore, most carefully to conceal your contempt, however just, wherever you would not make an implacable enemy. Men are much more unwi [...] ­ling to have their weaknesses and there imperfec­tions known, than their crimes; and if you hint to a man that you think him silly, ignorant, or even ill-bred or awkward, he will hate [...]u more, and lon­ger, than if you tell him plainly that you think him a rogue.

[Page 51]Nothing is more insulting than to take pains to make a man feel a mortifying inferiority in know­ledge, rank, fortune, &c. In the [...]st, it is both ill-bred and ill-natured, and in the two latter articles it is unjust, they not being in his power. Good-breeding and good-nature incline us rather to raise people up to ourselves, than to mortify and dress them. Besides, it is making ourselves so many friends, instead of so many enemies. A constant attention to please, is a most necessary ingredient in the art of pleasing: it flatters the self-love of those to whom it is shewn; it engages and captivates, more than things of much greater importance. Every man is, in some mea [...]ure, obliged to discharge the so­cial duties of life; but these attentions are volun­tary acts, the free-will offering of good-breeding and good nature; they are received, remembered, and returned as such. Women, in particular, have a right to them; and any omission in that respect is downright ill-breeding.

We should never yield to that temptation, which to most young men is very strong, of ex­posing other people's weaknesses and infirmities, for the sake either of diverting the company, or of shewing our own superiority. We may, by that means, get the laugh on our side so, the present, but we shall make [...]nemies by it for ever; and even those who laugh [...]ith us, [...]ill, u [...]on reflection, fear and dispise is: it is [...] [...]ed, and a good heart desires rather to conce [...] [...]han expose other peoples weaknesses or misfortun [...] ▪ If we have wit, we should use it [...] please, and not to hurt: we may shine, like the sun in the Temperate Zones, without scorching.

[Page 52]There are many inoffensive arts which are ne­cessary in the course of the world, and which he who practises the earliest, will please the most, and ri [...]e the s [...]onest. The spirits and vivacity of youth are apt to neglect them as useless, or reject them as troublesome; but subsequent knowledge and experience of the world remind us of their importance, commonly when it is too late. The principal of these things is the mastery of one's temper, and that coolness of mind, and serenity of countenance, which hinders us from discover­ing by words, actions, or even looks, those pas­sions or sentiments by which we are inwardly moved or agitated; and the discovery of which gives cooler and [...]bler pe [...]p [...] such infinite advan­tages over us, not only in great business, but in all the most common occurrences of life. A man who does not possess himself enough to hear disagreeable things, without visible marks of anger and change of countenace, or agreeable ones without sudden bursts of joy, and expansion of countenance, is at the mercy of every art­ful knave, or pert coxcomb▪ the former will [...]ovoke or please you by design, to catch un­guarded words or looks; by which he will easily [...]pher the secrets of your heart, of which you [...]hould keep the key yourself, and trust it with no man living. The latter will, by his absurdity, and without intending it, produce the same dis­coveries, of which other▪ people will avail them­selves.

If you find yourself subject to sudden starts of passion, or madness (for I [...]e no difference between them but in their duration), resolve within yourself, at least, never [...] [...]peak one word while you feel that emotion within [...] ▪

[Page 53]In short, make yourself absolutely master of your temper and your countenance, so far, at least, as that no visible change do appear in either, whatever you may feel inwardly. This may be difficult, but it is by no means impossible; and as a man of sense never attempts impossibi­lities on one hand, on the other he is never dis­couraged by difficulties: on the contrary, he re­doubles his industry and his diligence; he per­severes, and infallibly prevails at last. In any point which prudence bids you p [...]rsue, and which a manifest utility attends, let difficulties only animate your industry, not deter you from the pursuit. If one way has failed▪ try another; be active, persevere, and you will conquer [...] ▪ Some people are to be reasoned▪ so [...] flattered, some intimidated, and some [...]zed into a thing; but in general, all are to be brought into it at last, if skilfully applied to, properly managed, and in­defatigably attacked in their several weak places. The time should likewise be judiciously chosen: every man has his mollia tempora, but that is far from being all day long; and you would chuse your time very ill, if you applied to a man about one bu­siness, when his head was full of another, or when his heart was full of grief, anger, or any other disagreea­ble sentiment.

In order to judge of the inside of others, study your own; for men in general are very much alike; and though one has one prevailing passion, and another has another, yet their operations are much the same; and whatever engages or disgusts, pleases or offends you in others, will mutatis mutandis, engage, disgust, please, or offend o­thers, in you. Observe, with the utmost atten­tion, all the operations of your own mind, the [Page 54] nature of your passions, and the various motives that determine your will; and you may, in a great degree, know all mankind. For instance: do you find yourself hurt and mortified, when another makes you feel his superiority, and your own inferiority, in knowledge, parts, rank, or fortune? you will certainly take great care not to make a person whose good will, good word, interest, esteem, or friendship you would gain, feel that superiority in you, in case you have it. If disagreeable insinuations, sly sneers, or re­peated contradictions, [...]a [...]e and irritate you, would you use them where you wished to engage, and please? Surely not▪ and I hope you wish to engage and please almost u [...]iv [...]rsally. The tempta­tion of saying [...] smart and [...]y thing, [...] bon mot and the malicious applause with which it is com­monly received, have made people who can say them, and, still o [...]tener [...] people who thing they can, but cannot, and yet try, more enemies, and imp [...]aca [...]e [...] too, than [...]ay [...]her thing that I know of. When such things then shall [...]appen to be said at your expence (as sometimes they cer­tainly will) reflect seriously upon the sentiments of uneasiness, anger, and resentment which they ex­cite in you; and consider whether it can be pru­dent, by the same means, to excite the same sen­timents in others against you. It is a decided folly to lose a friend for a jest; but, in my mind, it is not a much less degree of folly to make an enemy of an indifferent and neutral person for the sake of a bon mot. When things of this kind happen to be said of you, the most prudent way is to seem not to suppose that they are meant at you, but to dissemble and conceal whatever de­gree of anger, you may feel inwardly; and should [Page 55] they be so plain that you cannot be supposed igno­rant of their meaning, to join in the laugh of the company against yourself, acknowledge the hit to be a fair one, and the jest a good one, and play of the whole thing in seeming good-humour; but by no means reply in the same way; which only shews that you are hurt, and publishes the victory which you might have concealed. Should the thing said, indeed injure your honour or moral character, remember there are but two alternatives for a gentleman and a man of parts— extreme politeness, or a duel.

If a man notoriously and designedly insults and affronts you, knock him down; but if he only injures you, your best revenge is to be extremely civil to him in your outward behaviour, though at the same time you counterwork him, and re­turn him the compliment, perhaps with intere [...], This is not perfidy or dissimulation: it would be s [...], if you were, at the same time, to make professions of esteem and friendship to this man; which I by no means recommend, but, on the contrary, abhor. All acts of civility are, by common consult, under­stood to be no more than a conformity to custom, for the quiet and conveniency of society, the agremens of which are not to be disturbed by private dislikes and jealousies. Only women and little minds pout and sp [...]r for the entertainment of the company, that always laughs at, and never pities them. For m [...] own part, though I would by no means give up any point to a competitor, yet I would pious myself up­on shewing him rather more civility th [...] to another man. In the first place, this behaviour infallibly makes all the laughers of your side, which i [...] a con­siderable party: and in the next place, it certainly pleases the object of the competition, be it either man [Page 56] or woman; who never fail to say, upon such an occasion, ‘that they must own you have behaved yourself very handsomely in the whole affair.’

In short, let this be one invariable rule of your conduct: Never to shew the least symptom of re­sentment, which you cannot, to a certain degree, gratify; but always to smile where you cannot strike. There would be no living in the world, if one could not conceal, and even dissemble the just causes of resentment, which one meets with every day in an active and busy life. Whoever cannot master his humour, should leave the world, and retire to some hermitage in an unfrequented desart. By shewing an unavailing and sullen re­sentment, you authorize the resentment of those who can hurt you, and whom you cannot hurt; and give them that very pretence, which perhaps they wished for, of breaking with and injuring you; whereas the contrary behaviour would lay them under the restraints of decency at least, and either shackle or expose their malice. Besides, cap­tiousness, sullenness, and pouting, are most exceed­ingly illiberal and vulgar.

Though men are all of one composition, the several ingredients are so differently proportioned in each individual, that no two are exactly alike; and no one, at all times, like himself. The ablest man will, sometimes, do weak things; the proudest man, mean things; the honest man, ill things; and the wickedest man, good things. Study individuals then, and if you take (as you ought to do) their outlines from their prevailing passion, suspend your last finishing strokes till you have attended to and have discovered the opera­tions of their inferior passions, appetites, and [Page 57] humours. A man's general character may be that of the honest man in the world; do not dispute it; you might be thought envious or ill-natured; but, at the same time, do not take this probity upon trust, to such a degree as to put your life, fortune, or reputation in his power. This honest man may happen to be your rival in power, in interest, or love; three passions that often put honesty to most severe trials, in which it is too often cast; but first analyse this honest man your­self, and then only you will be able to judge, how far you may, or may not, with safety trust him.

If you would particularly gain the affection and friendship of particular people, whether men or women, endeavour to find out their predomi­nant excellency, if they have one, and their pre­vailing weakness, which every body has; and do justice to the one, and something more than jus­tice to the other. Men have various objects in which they may excel, or at least would be thought to excel; and though they love to hear justice done to them where they know that they excel, yet they are most and best flattered upon those points where they with to excel, and yet are doubt­ful whether they do or not. As for example: Cardinal Richelieu, who was undoubtedly the ablest statesman of his time, or perhaps of any other, had the idle vanity of being thought the best poet too; he envied the great Corneille his reputation, and ordered a criticism to be written upon the Cid. Those, therefore, who flattered skilfully, said little to him of his abilities in state affairs, or at least but en pass [...]nt, and as it might naturally occur. But the incense which they gave him, the smoke of which they knew would [Page 58] turn his head in their favour, was as a bel esprit and a poet. Why? Because he was sure of one excel­lency, and distrustful as to the other.

You will easily discover every man's prevailing vanity, by observing his favourite topic of con­versation; for every man talks most of what he has most a mind to be thought to excel in. Touch him but there, and you touch him to the quick.

Women have in general but one object, which is their beauty; upon which scarce any flattery is too gross for them to swallow. Nature has hardly formed a woman ugly enough to be in­sensible to flattery upon her person; if her face is so shocking, that she must, in some degree, be conscious of it, her figure and her air, she trusts, makes ample amends for it. If her figure is deformed, her face, she thinks, counterba­lances it. If they are both bad, she comforts herself that she has graces; a certain manner; a je ne s [...]ais quoi, still more engaging than beauty. This truth is evident from the studied and ela­borate dress of the ugliest women in the world. An undoubted, uncontested, conscious beauty is, of all women, the least sensible of flattery upon that head; she know [...] it is her due, and is therefore obliged to nobody for giving it her. She must be flattered upon her understanding; which though she may possibly not doubt of herself, yet she suspects that men may distrust.

Do not mistake me, and think that I mean to recommend to you abject and criminal flattery: no, flatter nobody's vices or crimes; on the con­trary, abhor and discourage them. But there is no living in the world without a complaisant in­dulgence for people's weaknesses, and innocent [Page 59] though ridiculous vanities. If a man has a mind to be thought wiser, and a woman handsomer than they really are, their error is a comfortable one to themselves, and an innocent one with re­gard to other people; and I would rather make them my friends, by indulging them in it, than my enemies, by endeavouring (and that to [...]o purpose) to undeceive them.

Suspect, in general, those who remarkably af­fect any one virtue; who raise it above all others, and who, in a manner, intimate that they possess it exclusively. I say, suspect them; for they are commonly impostors: but do not be sure that they are always so; for I have sometimes known Saints really religious, Blusterers really brave, Reformers of manners really honest, and Prudes really chaste. Pry into the recesses of their hearts yourself, as far as you are able, and never im­plicitly adopt a character upon common fame; which, though generally right as to the great outlines of characters, is always wrong in some par­ticulars.

Be upon your guard against those who, upon very [...]light acquaintance, obtrue their unasked and unmerited friendship and confidence upon you; for they probably [...]ram you with them only for their own eating; but at the same time do not roughly reject them upon that general supposi­tion. Examine further, and see whether those unexpected offers flow from a warm heart and a silly head, or from a designing head and a cold heart; for knavery and folly have often the same symptoms. In the first case, there is no danger in accepting them—valeant quantum valere pussunt. [...] the latter case, it may be useful to accept them, [Page 60] and artfully to turn the battery upon him who raised it.

If a man uses strong oaths or protestations to make you believe a thing which is of itself so likely and probable that the bare saying of it would be suffi­cient, depend upon it he lies, and is highly interest­ed in making you believe it; or else he would not take so much pains.

There is an incontinency of friendship among young fellows, who are associated by their mu­tual pleasures only, which has, very frequently, bad consequences. A parcel of warm hearts and unexperienced heads, heated by convivial mirth, and possibly a little too much wine, vow, and really mean at the time, eternal friendships to each other, and indiscreetly pour out their whole souls in common, and without the least reserve. The confidences are as indiscreetly repealed as they were made; for new pleasures and new places soon dissolve this ill cemented connection, and then very ill uses are made of these rash confi­dences. Bear your part, however, in young companies; nay, exce [...], if you can, in all the social and convivial joy and festivity that become youth. Trust them with your love-tales, if you please; but keep your serious views secret. Trust those only to some tried friend, more experienced than yourself, and who, being in a different walk of life from you, is not likely to become your rival; for I would not advise you to depend so much upon the heroic virtue of mankind, as to hope, or believe, that your competitor will ever be your friend, as to the object of that compe­tition.

A seeming ignorance is very often a most ne­cassary part of worldly knowledge. It is, for in­stance, [Page 61] commonly adviseable to seem ignorant of what people offer to tell you; and when they say, Have not you heard of such a thing? to answer, No; and to let them go on, though you know it already. Some have a pleasure in telling it, be­cause they think they tell it well; others have a pride in it, as being the sagacious discoveries; and many have a vanity in shewing that they have been, though very undeservedly, trusted: all these would be disappointed, and consequent­ly displeased, if you said, Yes. Seem always ignorant (unless to one most intimate friend) of all matters of private scandal and defamation, though you should hear them a thousand times; for the parties affected always look upon the re­ceiver to be almost as bad as the thief; and when­ever they become the topic of conversation, seem to be a sceptic, though you are really a serious believer; and always take the extenuating part. But all this seeming ignorance should be joined to thorough and extensive private informations; and, indeed, it is the best method of procuring them; for most people have such a vanity in shewing a superiority over others, though but for a moment, and in the merest trifles, that they will tell you what they should not, rather than not shew that they can tell what you did not know; besides that, such seeming ignorance will make you pass for incurious, and consequently undesigning. However, fish for facts, and take pains to be well informed of every thing that passes; but fish judiciously, and not always, nor indeed often, in the shape of direct questions; which always put people upon their guard, and, often repeated, grow tiresome. But sometimes take the things that you would know for granted; [Page 62] upon which somebody will, kindly and officious­ly, set you right: sometimes say, that you have heard so and so; and at other times seem to know more than you do, in order to know all that you want: but avoid direct questioning as much as you can.

Human nature is the same all over the world but its operations are so varied by education and habit, that none must see it in all it [...] dresses, in o [...]der to be intimately acquainted with it. The pas [...]on of ambition, for instance, is the same in a [...]tier, a soldier, or an ecclesiastic; but from their different educations and habits, they will take very different methods to gra [...]ify it. Civili­ty, which is a disposition to accommodate and oblige others, is essentially the same in every country▪ but good-breeding, as it is called, which is the manner of exerting that disposition, in dif­ferent in almost every country, and merely local▪ and every man of sense imitates and conforms to that local good-breeding of the place which he is at. A conformity and flexibility of manners is necessary in th [...] course of the world; that is, with regard to all things which are not wrong in them­selves. The versatile ingenium is the most use­ful of all. It can turn itself instantly from one ob­ject to another, assuming the proper manner for each. It can be serious with the grave, chearful with the gay, and trifling with the frivolous.

Indeed, nothing is more engaging than a chearful and easy conformity to people's particu­lar manners, habits, and even weaknesses; no­thing (to use a vulgar expression) should come amiss to a young fellow. He should be, for good purposes, what Alcibiades was commonly for bad ones—a Protens, assuming with ease, and wearing with chearfulness, any shape. Heat, cold, [Page 63] luxury, abstinence, gravity, gaiety, ceremony, easi­ness, learning, trifling, business, and pleasure, are modes which he should be able to take, lay aside, or change occasionally, with as much ease as he would take or lay aside his hat.

Young men are apt to think that every thing is to be carried by spirit and [...]igour; that art is meanness, and that versatility and complai [...]ance are the refuge of pusillanimity and weakness. This most mistaken opinion gives an indelicacy, an abruptness, and a roughness to the manners. Fools, who can never be undeceived, retain them as long as they live; reflection, with a little ex­perience, makes men of sense shake them off soon. When they come to be a little better acquainted with themselves, and with their own species, they discover, that plain right reason is, nine times in ten, the fettered and sh [...]ckled attendant of the triumph of the heart and the passions; conse­quently, they address themselves nine times in ten to the conqueror, not to the conqered: and con­querors, you know, must be applied to in the gent­lest▪ the most engaging, and the most insinuating manner.

But, unfortunately, young men are as apt to think themselves wise enough, as drunken men are to think themselves sober enough. They look upon spirit to be a much better thing than experience; which they call coldness. They are but half mistaken; for though spirit without ex­perience is dangerous, experience without spirit is languid and defective. Their union, which is very rare, is perfection: you may join them, if you please; for all my experience is at your ser­vice; and I do not desire one grain of your spirit in return. Use them both, and let them re­ciprocally [Page 64] animate and check each other. I [...]ean here, by the spirit of youth, only the vivacity and presumption of youth; which hinder them from seeing the difficulties or dangers of an undertak­ing: but I do not mean what the silly vulgar call spirit, by which they are captious, jealous of their rank, suspicious of being under-valued, and tart (as they call it) in their repartees upon the slight­est occasions. This is an evil and a very silly spirit, which should be driven out, and transferred to an herd of fwine.

To conclude: Never neglect or despise old, for the sake of new or more shining acquaintance; which would be ungrateful on your part, and never forgiven o [...] theirs. Take care to make as many personal friends, and as few personal ene­mies, as possible. I do not mean by personal friends, intimate and confidential friends, of which no man can hope to have half a dozen in the whole course of his life; but I mean friends, in the com­mon acceptation of the word; that is, people who speak well of you, and who would rather do you good than harm, consistently with their own interest, and no further.

LYING.

NOTHING is more criminal, mean, or ri­diculous, than Lying. It is the production either of malice, cowardice, or vanity; but it generally misses of its aim in every one of these views; for lyes are always d [...]tected sooner or later. If we advance a malicious lye, in order to affect any man's fortune or character, we may, [Page 65] indeed, injure him for some time; but we shall certainly be the greatest sufferers in the end: for as soon as we are detected, we are blasted for the infamous attempt; and whatever is said after­wards to the disadvantage of that person, how­ever true, passes for calumny. To lye, or to equi­vocate (which is the same thing), to excuse our­selves for what we have said or done, and to avoid the danger of the shame that we apprehend from it, we discover our fear as well as our falshood; and only increase, instead of avoiding, the danger and the shame; we shew ourselves to be the lowest and meanest of mankind, and are sure to be al­ways treated as such. I [...] we have the misfortune to be in the wrong, there is something [...]ble in frankly owning it▪ it is the only way of [...]oning for it, and the only way to be forgiven. To re­move a present danger, by equivocating, evading, or shuffling, is somet [...]ing so despicable, and betrays so much fear, that whoever practises them deserves to be chastised.

There are people who indulge themselves in ano­ther sort of lying, which they reckon innocent, and which in one sense is so; for it hurts nobody but themselves. This sort of lying is the spurious off­spring of Vanity begotten upon Folly. Those people deal in the marvellous. They have seen some things that never existed; they have seen other things which they never really saw, though they did exist, only becau [...] they were thought worth seeing. Has any thing remarkable been said or done in any place, or in any company, they immediately present and declare themselves eye or ear witnesses of it. They have done feats themselves, unattempted, or at least unperformed, by others. They are always the heroes of their [Page 66] own fables; and think that they gain considera­tion, or at least present attention by it. Where­as, in truth, all that they get is ridicule and con­tempt, not without a good degree of distrust: for one must nat [...]ally conclude, that he who will [...]ll any lye from idle vanity, will not scruple tel­ling a greater for interest. Had I really seen any thing so v [...]ry extraordinary as to be almost incre­d [...]le, I would keep it to myself, rather than, by telling it, give any one body room to doubt for one minute of my veracity. It is most certain, that the reputation of chastity is not so necessary for a woman▪ as that of veracity is for a man, and with reason; for it is possible for a women to be virtuous, though not strictly chaste: but it is not possible for a man to be virtuous without strict veracity. The slips of the poor women are sometimes mere bodily frailties; but a lye in a man is a vice of the mind, and of the heart.

Nothing but truth can carry us through the world with either our conscience or our honour unwounded. It is not only our duty, but our in­terest; as a proof of which, it may be ob [...]erved, that the greatest fools are the greatest lyars. We may safely judge of a man's truth by his degree of understanding.

DIGNITY OF MANNERS.

A CERTAIN dignity of manners is abso­lutely necess [...]r [...] ▪ to make even the most va­luabl [...] chara [...]t [...]r either re [...]pected or respectable in the world.

Horse-play, romping, frequent and loud fits [Page 67] of laughter, jokes, waggery, and indiscriminate familiarity, will sink both merit and knowledge into a degree of contempt. They compose at most a merry fellow, and a merry fellow was never yet a respectable man. Indiscriminate familiarity either offends your superiors, or else dubs you their dependent and led-captain. It gives your inferiors just▪ but troublesome and improper claims of equality. A joker is near a-kin to a buffoon; and neither of them is the least related to wit. Whoever is admitted or sought for, in company, upon any other account than that of his merit and manners, is never respected there, but only made use of.— ‘We will have such-a-one, for he sings prettily; we will invite such-a-one to a ball, for he dances well; we will have such-a-one at supper, for he is always joking and laughing; we will ask another, be­cause he plays deep at all games, or because he can drink a great deal.’ These are all vili­fying distinctions, mortifying preferences, and exclude all [...]ide as of esteem and regard. Who­ever is had (as it is called) in company, for the sake of any one thing singly, is singly that thing, and will never be considered in any other light; and consequently never respected, let his merits be what they will.

Dignity of manners is not only as different from pride as true courage is from blustering, or true wit from joking, but [...]s absolutely inconsistent with it; for nothing valifies and degrades more than pride. The pretensions of the proud man are oftener treated with sneer and contempt, than with indignation—as we offer ridiculously too lit­tle to a tradesman who asks ridiculously too much [Page 68] for his goods; but we do not haggle with one who only asks a just and reasonable price.

Abject flattery and indiscriminate ostentation de­grade, as much as indiscriminate contradiction and noisy debate disgust; but a modest assertion of one's own opinion, and a complaisant acquiescence to other people's preserve dignity.

Vulgar low expressions, awkward motions and address, vilify as they imply either a very low turn of mind, or low education and low company.

Frivolous curiosity about trifles, and a labori­ous attention to little objects, which neither require nor deserve a moment's thought, lower a man; who from thence is thought (and not unjustly) incapable of greater matters. Cardinal Retz very sagaciously marked out Cardinal Chig [...] for a little mind, from the moment that he told him he had wrote three years with the same pen, and that it was an excellent good one still.

A certain degree of exterior seriousness in looks and motions gives dignity, without excluding wit and decent chearfulness, which are always serious themselves. A constant smirk upon the face, and a whiffling activity of the body, are strong indications of futility. Whoever is in a hurry shews that the thing he is about is too big for him. Haste and hurry are very different things.

To conclude: A man who has patiently been kicked may as well pretend to courage, as a man blasted by vices and crimes may to dignity of any kind. But an exterior decency and dignity of manners will even keep such a man longer from sinking, than otherwise he would be: of such con­sequence is Decorum, even though affected and put on.

GENTLENESS OF MANNERS, WITH FIRMNESS OR RESOLUTION OF MIND.

I DO not know any one rule so unexceptionably useful and necessary in every part of life, as to unite Gentleness of Manners with Firmness of Mind. The first alone would degenerate and sink into a mean, timid complaisance and passivenes [...], if not supported and dignified by the latter; which would also deviate into impetuosity and bruta [...]ity, if not tempered and softened by the other: how­ever, they are seldom united. The warm, c [...] leric man, with strong animal spirits, des [...] the first, and thinks to carry all before him [...] the last. He may possibly, by great accide [...] now and then succeed, when he was only weak and timid people to deal with; but his general fate will be, to shock, offend, be hated, and fail. On the other hand, the cunning, crafty man thinks to gain all his ends by gentleness of manners only: he becomes all things in all men; he seems to have no opinion of his own, and ser­vilely adopts the present opinion of the present person; he insinuates himself only into the esteem of fools, but is soon detected, and surely despised by every body else. The wise man (who differs as much from the cunning as from the choleric man) alone joins softness of manners with firm­ness of mind.

The advantages arising from an union of these qualities are equally striking and obvious. For example▪ If you are in authority, and have a [Page 70] right to command, your commands delivered with mildness and gentleness will be willingly, chear­fully, and consequently well obeyed; whereas, if given brutally, they will rather be interpreted th [...] executed. For a cool, steady resolution should shew, that where you have a right to com­mand you will be obeyed; but, at the same time, a gentleness in the manner of enforcing that obe­dience should make it a chearful one, and soften, as much as possible, the mortifying consciousness of inferiority.

If you are to ask a favour, or even to solicit your due, you must do it with a grace, or you will give those who have a mind to refuse you, a pretence to do it, by resenting the manner; but, on the other hand, you must, by a steady perseverance and decent tenaciousness, shew firm­ness and resolution. The right motives are sel­dom the true ones of men's actions, especially of people in high stations; who often give to impor­tunity and fear what they would refuse to justice or to merit. By gentleness and softness engage their hearts, if you can; at least prevent the pre­tence of offence; but take care to shew resolution and firmness enough to extort from their love of ease, or their fear, what you might in vain hope for from their justice or good-nature. People in high life are hardened to the wants and distresses of mankind, as surgeons are to their bodily pains; they see and hear of them all day long, and even of so many simulated ones, that they do not know which are real and which are not. Other senti­ments are therefore to be applied to, than those of mere justice and humanity: their favour must be captivated by the Graces; their love of ease disturbed by unwearied importunity, or their [Page 71] fears wrought upon by a decent intimation of implacable, cool, resentment. This precept is the only way I know in the world, of being loved without being despised, and feared without being hated. It constitutes the dignity of cha­racter, which every wise man must endeavour to establish.

To conclude: If you find that you have a hastiness in your temper, which unguardedly breaks out into indiscreet sallies, or rough ex­pressions, to either your superiors, your equals, or your inferiors, watch it narrowly, check it carefully, and call the Graces to your assistance. At the first impulse of passion, be silent till you can be soft. Labour even to get the command of your countenance so well, that those emotions may not be read in it: a most unspeakable advan­tage in business! On the other hand, let no com­plaisance, no gentleness of temper, no weak de­sire of pleasing on your part—no wheedling, coaxing, nor flattery on other people's make you recede one jot from any point that reason and prudence have bid you pursue; but return to the charge, persist, persevere, and you will find most things attainable that are possible. A yielding, timid meekness is always abused and insulted by the unjust and unfeeling; but when sustained by firmness and resolution, is always respected, com­monly successful.

In your friendships, and connections, as well as in your enmities, this rule is particularly useful; let your firmness and vigour preserve and invite attchments to you; but, at the same time, let your manner hinder the enemies of your friends and dependents from becoming yours: let your enemies be disarmed by the gentleness of [Page 72] your manner, but let them feel at the same time the steadiness of your just resentment; for th [...]e is great difference between bearing m [...]ice, which is always ungenerous, and a resolute self-defence, which is always prudent and justifiable.

Some people cannot gain upon themselves to be easy and civil to those who are either their [...]vals [...] competitors, or opposers▪ though, independently of those accidental circumstances, they would like and esteem them. They betray a shyness and an awkwardness in company with them, and catch at any little thing to expose them▪ and so, from temporary and only occasional opponen [...]s, make them their personal enemies. This is ex­ceedingly weak and detrimental, as, indeed, is all humour in business; which can only be car­ried on successfully by unadulterated good policy and right reasoning. In such situations I would be more particularly civil, easy, and frank, with the man whose designs I traversed: this is common­ly called generosity and magnanimity, but is, in truth, good-sense and policy. The manner is often as important as the matter, sometimes more so: a favour may make an enemy, and an in [...]ury may make a friend, according to [...] different ma [...]ner in which they are severally done. In fine, gentleness of manners with firmness of mind is a short but full de­scription of human perfection on this [...]de of religious and moral duties.

MORAL CHARACTER.

THE Moral Character of a man should be not only pure, but, like Caesar's wife, unsuspect­ed. The least speck or blemish upon it is fatal. [Page 73] Nothing degrades and villifies more, for it excites and unites detestation and contempt. There are, however, wretches in the world proffigate enough to explode all notions of moral good and evil; to maintain that they are merely local, and de­pend entirely upon the customs and fashions of different countries: nay, there are still, if possible, more unaccountable wretches; I mean those who affect to preach and propagate such absurd and infamous notions without believing them them­selves. Avoid as much as possible the com­pany of such people, who reflect a degree of dis­credi [...] and infamy upon all who converse with them. But as you may sometimes by accident fall into such company, take great care that no complaisance, no good-humour, no warmth of fes­tal mirth, ever make you seem even to acquiesce, much less approve or applaud, such infamous doctrines. On the other hand, do not debate, nor enter into serious argument, upon a subject so much below it▪ but content yourself with telling them that you know they are not serious; that you have a much better opinion of them than they would have you have; and that you are very sure they would not practise the doctrine they preach. But put your private mark upon them, and shun them for ever afterwards.

There is nothing so delicate as a man's moral character, and nothing which it is his interest so much to preserve pure. Should he be suspected of injustice, malignity, perfidy, lying, &c. all the parts and knowledge in the world will never procure him esteem, friendship, or respect. I therefore recommend to you a most scrupulous tenderness for your moral character, and the utmost care not to say or do the least thing that [Page 74] may ever so slightly taint it. Shew yourself upon all occasions the friend, but not the bully of Virtue. Even Colonel Chartres (who was the most notorious blasted rascal in the world, and who had by all sorts of crimes amassed im­mense wealth) sensible of the disadvantage of a bad character, was once heard to say, that ‘though he would not give one farthing for vir­tue, he would give ten thousand pounds for a character; because he should get a hundred thou­sand pounds by it.’ Is it possible, then, that an honest man can neglect what a wiser rogue would pur­chase so dear?

There is one of the vices above-mentioned into which people of good education, and in the main, of good principles, sometimes fall, from mistaken notions of skill, dexterity and self-defence; I mean lying; though it is inseparable attended with more infamy and loss than any other. But I have before given you my sentiments very freely on this subject; I shall therefore conclude this head with intreating you to be scrupulously jealous of the purity of your moral character; keep it immaculate, un­blemished, unsullied, and it will be unsuspected Defamation and calumny never attack where there is no weak place; they magnify, but they do not create.

COMMON-PLACE OBSERVATIONS.

NEVER use, believe, or approve Common-place Observations. They are the common topics of witlings and coxcombs; those who really have wit have the utmost contempt for them, [Page 75] and scorn even to laugh at the pert things that those would-be wits say upon such subjects.

Religion is one of their favourite topics; it is all priest-craft, and an invention contrived and carried on by priests of all religions for their own power and profit: from this absurd and false principle flow the common-place insipid jokes and insults upon the clergy. With these people every priest of every religion is either a public or a concealed unbeliever, drunkard, and whoremaster; whereas I conceive that priests are extremely like other men, and neither the better nor the worse for wearing a gown or a surplice; but if they are different from other people, probably it is rather on the side of religion and morality, or at least decency, from their education and manner of life.

Another common topic for false wit and cold raillery is matrimony. Every man and his wife hate each other cordially, whatever they may pretend in public to the contrary. The husband certainly wishes his wife at the devil, and the wife certainly cuckolds her husband. Whereas I presume, that men and their wives neither love nor hate each other the more, upon account of the form of matrimony which has been said over them. The cohabitation, indeed, which is the consequence of matrimony, makes them either love or hate more, accordingly as they respec­tively deserve it; but that would be exactly the same, between any man and woman who lived toge­ther without being married.

It is also a trite common-place observation, that courts are the seats of falshood and dissimu­lation. That like many I might say most common-place observations is false. Falshood [Page 76] and dissimulation are certainly to be found at courts; but where are they not to be found? Cottages have them, as well as courts; only with wor [...]e manners. A couple of neighbouring farmers in a village will contrive and practise as many tricks to over-reach each other at the next market, or to supplant each other in the favour of the 'Squire, as any two courtiers can do to [...]upplant each other in the favour of their Prince. Whatever poets may write, or fools believe, of rural inno­cence and truth, and of the perfidy of courts, this is undoubtedly true—That shepherds and ministers are both men▪ their nature and passions the same, the modes of them only different.

These and many other common-place reflec­tions upon nations, or professions, in general (which are at least as often false as true) are the poor refuge of people who have neither wit nor invention of their own, but endeavour to shine in company by second hand finery. I always put these pert jackanapes's out of countenance, by looking extremely grave, when they expect that I should laugh at their plea­santries; and by saying, Well▪ and so? as if they had not done, and that the sting were still to come. This disconcerts them, as they have no resources in them­selves, and have but one set of jokes to live upon. Men of parts are not reduced to these shifts, and have the utmost contempt for them: they find proper subjects enough for either useful or lively conversati­ons; they can be witty without satire or common-place, and serious without being dull.

ORATORY.

ORATORY, or the art of speaking well, is use­ful in every situation of life, and absolutely necessary in most. A man cannot distinguish himself without it in parliament, in the pulpit, or at the bar; and even in comon conversation, he who has acquired an easy and habitual elo­quence, and who speaks with propriety and ac­curacy, will have a great advantage over those who speak inelegantly and incorrectly. The bu­siness of oratory is to persuade; and to please is the most effectual step towards persuading. It is very advantageous for a man who speaks in public to please his hearers so much as to gain their attention; which he cannot possibly do, without the assistance of oratory.

It is certain that by study and application every man may make himself a tolerable good orator, eloquence depending upon observation and care. Every man may, if he pleases, make choice of good instead of bad words and phrases, may speak with propriety instead of impropriety, and may be clear and perspicuous in his recitals, in­stead of dark and unintelligible; he may have grace instead of awkwardness in his gestures and deportment: in short, it is in the power of every man, with pains and application, to be a very agreeable instead of a very disagreeable speaker; and it is well worth the labour to excel other men in that particular article in which they excel best.

Demosthenes thought it so essentially necessary to speak well, that though he naturally stuttred, [Page 78] and had weak lungs, he resolved by application to overcome those disadvantages. He cured his stammering by putting small pebbles in his mouth, and gradually strengthened his lungs by daily using himself to speak loudly and distinctly for a considerable time. In stormy weather he often visited the sea-shore, where he spoke as loud as he could, in order to prepare himself for the noise and murmurs of the popular assemblies of the Athenians, before whom he was to speak. By this extraordinary care and attention▪ and the constant study of the best authors, he became the greatest oratory that his own, or any other age or country have produced.

Whatever language a person uses, he should speak it in its greatest purity, and according to the rules of grammer; nor is it sufficient that we do not speak a language ill, we must endeavour to speak it well; for which purpose we should read the best authors with attention, and observe how people of fashion and education speak. Common people, in general, speak ill; they make use of inelegant and vulgar expressions, which people of rank never do. In numbers they frequent­ly join the singular and plural together, and confound the masculine with the feminine gender, and seldom make choice of the proper tense. To avoid all these faults we should read with attention, and observe the turn and expressions of the best authors; nor should we pass over a word we do not perfectly understand, with­out searching or enquiring for the exact meaning of it.

It is said, that a man must be born a poet, but it is in his own power to make himself an orator; for to be a poet requires a certain degree of strength and vivacity of mind; but that attention, reading, and labour, are sufficient to form an orator.

PEDANTRY.

EVERY excellency and every virtue has its kindred vice or weakness; and, if carried beyond certain bounds, sinks into the one or the other. Generosity often runs into profusion, oeconomy into avarice, courage into rashness, cau­tion into timidity, and so on;—insomuch that I believe there is more judgment required for the proper conduct of our virtues, than for avoiding their opposite vices. Vice, in its true light is so deformed, that it shocks at first sight; and would hardly ever seduce us, if it did not at first wear the [...]ask of some virtue. But virtue is in itself so beautiful, that it charms us at first sight; en­gages us more and more upon further acquaint­ance, and, as with other beauties, we think ex­cess impossible: it is here that judgment is neces­sary to moderate and direct the effects of an excellent cause. In the same manner great learn­ing, if not accompanied with sound judgment, frequently carries us into error, pride, and pe­dantry.

Some learned men, proud of their knowledge, only speak to decide, and give judgment without appeal; the consequence of which is, that man­kind, provoked by the insult, and injured by the opp [...]ession, revolt; and in order to shake off the tyranny even call the lawful authority in question. The m [...]re you know, the modester you should be; and that modesty is the surest way of gratifying your vanity. Even where you are sure, seem rather doubtful▪ represent, but do not pronounce; and if you would convince others, seem open to convic­tion yourself.

[Page 80]Others, to shew their learning, or often from the prejudices of a school education, where they hear of nothing else, are always talk­ing of the Ancients as something more than men, and of the Moderns as [...]mething less. They are never wit [...]out a cl [...]ssic or two in their pockets; they stick to the old good [...]; they read none of the modern tr [...]sh; [...] will sh [...]w you plainly that no improvem [...]t [...]s b [...]n made, in any one art or science, these la [...]t seven hun­dred years. I would by no means have you dis­own your acqu [...]intance with the Ancients, but still less would I have you brag of an exclusive intimacy with them. Speak of the Moderns without contempt, and of the Ancients without idolatry; judge them all by their merits, but not by their a [...]es; and if you happen to have an Elzevir c [...]assic in your pocket, neither shew it nor men­tion it.

Some great scholars, most absurdly, draw all their maxims, both for public and private life, from what they call parallel cases in the ancient authors; without considering, that, in the first place, there never w [...]re, since the Creation of the World, two cases exactly parallel; and in the next place, that there never was a case stated, or even known by any historian with every one of its circumst [...]ces; which, however, ought to be know [...] in ord [...]r to be reasoned from. Reason upon the case it [...]elf, and the several circumstances that attend it, and act accordingly; but not from the autho [...]ity of ancient poets or historians. Take into your consideration, if you please, cases seeming­ly analogous; but take them as helps only, not as guides.

There is another species of learned men, who, though less dogmatical and supercilious, are not [Page 81] less impertinent. These are the communicative and shining pedants, who adorn their conversa­tion, even with women, by happy quotations of Greek and Latin, and who have cont [...]acted such a familiarity with the Greek and Roman au­thors, that they call them by certain names or epithets denoting intimacy; as old Homer; that sly rogue Horace; Ma [...]o, instead of Virgil; Naso, instead of Ovid. These are often im [...]tated by coxcombs, who have no learning at all; but who have got some names and some scraps of ancient authors by heart, which they improperly and im­pertinently retail in all companies, in hopes of passing for [...]cholars. If, therefore, you would avoid the accusation of pedantry on one hand, or the suspicion of ignorance on the other, abstain from learned ostentation. Speak the language of the company you are in; speak it purely, and un­larded with any other. Never seem wiser, nor more learned than the people you are with. Wear your learning, like your watch, in a pri­vate pocket; and do not pull it out and strike it meekly to shew that you have one. If you are asked what o'clock it is, tell it; but do not proclaim it hourly and unasked, like the watch­ma [...].

PLEASURE.

MANY young people adopt pleasures, for which they have not the least taste, only be­c [...]se they are called by that name. They often mistake so totally, as to imagine that debauchery is pleasure. Drunkenness, which is equally de­struct [...]ve [Page 82] to body and mind, is certainly a fine pleasure! Gaming, which draws us into a thou­sand scrapes, leaves us pennyless, and gives us the air and manners of an outrageous madman, is another most exquisite plea [...]ure.

Pleasure is the rock which most young people split upon; they [...]unch out with crowded sails in quest of it, but without a compass to direct their course, or reason sufficient to steer the vessel: there­fore pain and shame, instead of pleasure, are the re­turns of their voyage.

A man of pleasure, in the vulgar acceptation of that phrase, means only a beastly drunkard, an abandoned rake, and profligate swearer: we should weigh the present enjoyment of our plea­sures against the unavoidable consequences of them, and then let our common sense determine the choice.

We may enjoy the pleasures of the table and wine, but stop short of the pains inseparably an­nexed to an excess in either. We may let other people do as they will, without formally and sen­tentiously rebuking them for it; but we must be firmly resolved not to destroy our own faculties and constitution, in compliance to those who have no reg [...]rd to their own. We may play to give us leasure, but not to give us pain; we may play for trifles in mixed companies to amuse our­selves and conform to custom. Good company are not fond of having a man reeling drunk among them; nor is it agreeable to see another tearing his hair, and blaspheming for having lost at play more than he is able to pay; or a rake with half a nose crippled by coarse and in­famous debauches. Those who pr [...]ctise and brag of these things make no part of good com­pany; [Page 83] and are most unwillingly, if ever, admitted into it. A real man of fashion and pleasure ob­serves decency; at least, he neither borrows nor affects vices; and if he is so unfortunate as to have any, he gratifies them with choice, delicacy, and secrecy.

We should be as attentive to our pleasures as to our studies. In the la [...]ter, we should observe and reflect upon all we read; and in the former, be watchful and attentive to every thing we see and hear; and let us never have it to say, as some fools do, of things that were said and done before their faces, That ‘indeed they did not mind them, because they were thinking of something else.’ Why were they thinking of something else? And if they were, why did they come there? Wh [...]rever we are, we should (as it is vulgarly expressed) have our ears and our eyes about us. We should listen to every thing that is said, and see every thing that is done. Let us observe, without being thought observes, for otherwise people will be upon their guard be­fore us.

All gaming, field-sports, and such other amuse­ments, where neither the understanding nor the senses have the least share, are frivolous, and the resources of little minds, who either do not think, or do not love to think. But the pleasures of a man of parts either flatter the senses or improve the mind.

There are liberal and illiberal pleasures, as well as liberal and illiberal arts. Soot [...]sh drunkenness, indiscriminate gluttony, driving ch [...]che [...], ru [...]tic sports, such as fox chaces, horse races, [...] are infinitely be­low the honest and industrious pro [...]essions of a taylor and a shoemaker.

[Page 84]The more we apply to business the more we relish our pleasures; the exercise of the mind in the morning, by study, whets the appetite for the pleasures of the evening, as the exercise of the body whets the appetite for dinner. Business and plea­sure, rightly understood, mutually assist each other— instead of being enemies, as foolish or dull people often think them. We cannot taste pleasure truly unless we earn them by previous business; and few people do business well who do nothing else. But when I speak of pleasures, I always mean the elegant pleasures of a rational being, and not the brutal ones of a swine.

PREJUDICES.

NEVER adopt the notions of any hooks you may read, or of any company you may keep, without examining whether they are just or not; as you otherwise will be liable to be hurried away by prejudices, instead of being guided by reason, and quietly cherish error, instead of seeking for truth.

Use and assert your own reason; reflect, exa­mine, and analize every thing, in order to form a sound and mature judgment; let no ipse dixi [...] impose upon your understanding, mislead your actions, or dictate your conversation. Be early, what, if you are not, you will when too late wish you had been. Consult your [...]eason betimes: I do not say that it will always prove an unerring guide, for human reason is not in [...]allible; but it will prove the least erring guide that you can fol­low. Books and conversation may assist it; but [Page 85] adopt neither blindly and implicitly: try both by that best rule, which God has given to direct us, Reason. Of all the troubles, do not decline, as many people do, that of thinking. The herd of mankind can hardly be said to think: their notions are almost all adoptive; and in general I believe it is better that it should be so; as such common prejudices contribute more to order and quiet, than their own separate reasonings would do, uncultivated and unimproved as they are.

Local prejudices prevail only with the herd of mankind, and do not impose upon cultivated, inf [...]med, and reflecting minds: but then there are notions equally false, though not so glaringly absurd, which are entertained by people of supe­rior and improved understandings, merely for want of the necessary pains to investigate, the proper attention to examine, and the penetration requisite to determine the truth. Those are the prejudices which I would have you guard against, by a manly exertion and attention of your reason­ing faculty.

RELIGION.

ERRORS and mistakes, however gross, in matters of opinion, if they are sincere, are to be pitie [...], but not punished nor laughed at. The blindness of the understanding is as much to be pitied as the blindness of the eyes; and it is neither laughable nor criminal for a man to lose his way in either case. Charity bids us endeavour to set him right, by arguments and persua­sions; but charity at the same time forbids us either to punish or ridicule his misfortune. Every [Page 86] man seeks for truth, but God only knows who has found it. It is unjust to persecute, and ab­surd to ridicule people for their several opinions, which they cannot help entertaining upon the conviction of their reason. It is he who tells or acts a lie that is guilty, and not he who honestly and sincerely believes the lie.

The object of all public worships in the world is the same; it is that great Eternal Being who created every thing. The different manners of worship are by no means subjects of ridicule. Each sect thinks his own the best: and I know no infallible judge in this world to decide which is the best.

EMPLOYMENT OF TIME.

HOW little do we reflect on the use and value of time! It is in every body's mouth, but in few people's practice. Every fool who slatterns away his whole time in nothings, frequently utters some trite common-place sentence to prove at once the value and the fleetness of time. The sun­dials all over Europe have some ingenious inscrip­tion to that effect; so that nobody squanders away their time without frequently hearing and seeing how necessary it is to employ it well, and how irrecoverable it is if lost. Young people are apt to think they have so much time before them, that they may squander what they please of it, and yet have enough left; as great fortunes have frequently seduced people to ruinous profu­sion. But all these admonitions are useless, where [Page 87] there is not a fund of good-sense and reason to suggest rather than receive them.

Time is precious, life short, and consequently not a single moment should be lost. Sensible men know how to make the most of time, and put out their whole sum either to interest or pleasure; they are never idle, but continually employed either in amusements or study. It is an universal maxim, that idleness is the mother of vice. It is, however, certain, that laziness is the inheritance of fools, and nothing can be so despicable as a sluggard. Cato the Censor, a wise and virtuous Roman, used to say, there were but three actions of his life that he regretted: The first was, the having revealed a secret to his wife; the second, that he had once gone by sea when he might have gone by land; and the third, the having passed one day without doing any thing.

‘Take care of the pence, for the pounds will take care of themselves,’ was a very just and sensible reflection of old Mr. Lowndes, the famous Secretary of the Treasury under William III. Anne. and George I. I therefore recom­mend to you to take care of minutes, for hours will take care of themselves. Be doing some­thing or other all day long; and not neglect half hours and quarters of hours, which at the year's end amount to a great sum. For instance: There are many short intervails in the day be­tween studies and pleasures: instead of sitting idle and yawning in those intervals, snatch up some valuable book, and continue the reading of that book till you have got through it; never burthen your mind with more than one thing at a time: and in reading this book, do not run over it superficially, but read every passage twice [Page 88] over at least; do not pass on to a second till you thoroughly understand the first, nor quit the book till you are master of the subject; for unless you do this, you may read it through and not remem­ber the contents of it for a week. The books I would particularly recommend among others, are the Marchioness Lambert's Advice to her Son and Daughter, Cardinal Reiz's Maxi [...], Rochefou­cault's Moral Reflections, Brayers's Characters. Fontenella's Plurality of Worlds, Sir Josiah Child on Trade, Bolingbroke's Work [...]; for style, his Remarks on the History of England, under the name of Sir John Oldcastle; Puffendorff's Jus Gentium, and Grotius de Jure Bell [...] et Pacis: the last two are well translated by Barbeyra [...]. For occasional half-hours or less, read works of invention, wit and humour; but never waste your minutes on trifling authors, either ancient or modern.

Nor are pleasures idleness, or time lost, provided they are the pleasures of a rational being; on the con­trary, a certain portion of time employed in those pleasures, is very usefully employed.

Whatever business you have, do it the first mo­ment you can; never by halves, but finish it without interruption if possible. Business must not be sauntered or trifled with; and you must not say to it, as Felix did to Paul, ‘At a more convenient season I will speak to thee.’ The most convenient season for business is the first; but study and business, in some measure, point out their own times to a man of sense: time is much oftener squandered away in the wrong choice and improper methods of amusement and plea­sures.

[Page 89]Dispatch is the soul of business; and nothing contributes more to dispatch than method. Lay down a method for every thing, and stick to it inviolably, as far as unexpected incidents may allow. Fix one certain hour and day in the week for your accounts, and keep them together in their proper order; by which means they will require very little time, and you can never be much cheated. Whatever letters and papers you keep, pocket and tie them up in their respective classes, so that you may instantly have recouse to any one. Lay down a method also for your reading, for which you allot a certain share of your mornings; let it be in a consistent and con­secutive course, and not in that desultory and im­methodical manner, in which many people read scraps of different authors upon different sub­jects. Keep a useful and short common place-book of what you read, to help your memory only, and not for pedantic quotations. Never read history without having maps, and a chro­nolagical book or tables lying by you, and con­stantly recurred to; without which History is only a confused heap of facts.

You will say it may be, as many young peo­ple would, that all this order and method is very troublesome, only fit for dull people, and a dis­agreeable restraint upon the noble spirit and fire of youth. I deny it; and assert on the contrary, that it will procure you both more time and more taste for your pleasures; and so far from being troublesome to you, that after you have pursued it a month, it would be troublesome to you to lay it aside. Business whets the appetite, and gives [...] taste to pleasures, as exercise does to food; and business can never be done without method: it [Page 90] raises the spirit, for pleasures; and a spectacle, a ball, an assembly, will much more sensibly affect a man who has employed, than a man who has lost, the preceding part of the day; nay, I will venture to say, that a fine lady will seem to have more charms to a man of study or business, than to a saunterer. The same listlessness runs through his whole conduct, and he is as insipid in his pleasures as inefficient in every thi [...]g else.

I hope you earn your pleasures, and consequent­ly taste them; for, by the way, I know a great ma­ny men who call themselves men of pleasure, but who, in truth, have none. They adopt other people's indiscriminately, but without any taste of their own. I have known them often inflict exces­ses upon themselves, because they thought them gen­teel; though they sat as awkwardly upon them as other people's cloaths would have done. Have no pleasures but your own, and then you will shine in them.

Many people think that they are in pleasures, provided they are neither in study nor in business. Nothing like it; they are doing nothing, and might just as well be asleep. They contract habitudes from laziness, and they only frequent those places where they are free from all restraints and attentions. Be upon your guard against this idle profusion of time; and let every place you go to be either the scene of quick and lively pleasures, or the school of your im­prov [...]ments: let every company you go into either gratify your senses, extend your knowledge, or refine your manners.

If by accident two or three hours are some­times wan [...]ing for some useful purpose, borrow them from your sleep. Six, or at most, seven hours sleep is, for a constancy, as much as you [Page 91] or any body can want: more is only laziness and dozing; and is both unwholesome and stupifying. If by chance your business or your pleasures should keep you up till four or five o'clock in the morning, rise exactly at your usual time, that you may not lose the precious morning hours; and that the want of sleep may force you to go to bed earlier the next night.

Above all things guard ag [...]inst frivolousness. The frivolous mind is alwa [...]s busied, but to little purpose; it takes little objects for great ones, and throws away upon trifles that time and attention which only important things deserve. Knick-knacks, butterflies, shells, insects, &c. are the objects of their most serious researches. They contemplate the dress, not the characters of the company they keep. They attend more to the decorations of a play, than to the sense of it; and to the ceremonies of a court, more than to its politics. Such an employment of time is an absolute loss of it.

To conclude this subject: Sloth, indolence, and effeminacy are pernicious, and unbecoming a young fellow; let them be your ressource forty years hence at soonest. Determine, at all events, and however disagreeable it may be to you in some respects, and for some time, to keep the most distinguished and fashionable company of the place you are at, either for their rank or for their learning, or le bel esp [...]it et le gout. This gives you credentials to the best companies where-ever you go afterwards.

Know the true value of time: snatch, seize, and enjoy every moment of it. No idleness, no laziness, no procrastination: never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day. That was [Page 92] the rule of the famous and unfortunate Pension­ary De Witt; who by strictly following it found time not only to do the whole business of the Re­public, but to pass his evenings at assemblies and suppers, as if he had had nothing else to do or think of.

VANITY.

BE extremely on your guard against vanity, the common failing of inexperienced youth; but particularly against that kind of vanity which dubs a man a coxcomb; a character which, once ac­quired, is more indelible than that of the priest­hood. It is not to be imagined by how many different ways vanity defeats its own purposes. One man decides peremptorily upon every sub­ject, betrays his ignorance upon many, and shews a disgusting presumption upon the rest: another desires to appear successful among the women: he hints at the encouragement he has received from those of the most distinguished rank and beauty, and intimates a particular connection with some one: if it is true, it is ungenerous; if false, it is infamous: but in either case he destroys the re­putation he wants to get. Some flatter their va­nity by little ext [...]aneous objects, which have not the least relation to themselves; such as being descended from, related to, or acquainted with, people of distinguished merit, and eminent cha­racters. They talk perpetually of their grand­father such-a-one, their uncle such a-one, and their intimate friend Mr. such-a-one, whom, pos­sibly, they are hardly acquainted with. But ad­mitting it all to be as they would have it, what [Page 93] then? Have they the more merit for those acci­dents? Certainly not. On the contrary, their taking up adventitious, proves their want of in­trinsic merit; a rich man never borrows. Take this rule for granted, as a never-failing one, that you must never seem to affect the character in which you have a mind to shine. Modesty i [...] the only sure bait, when you angle for praise. The affectation of courage will make even a brave man pass only for a bully; as the affectation of wit will make a man of parts pass for a coxcomb. By this modesty I do not mean timidity, and awkward bashfulness. On the contrary, be in­wardly firm and steady, know your own value, whatever it may be, and act upon that principle; but take great care to let nobody discover that you do know your own value. Whatever real merit you have, other people will discover; and people always magnify their own discoveries, as they lessen those of others.

VIRTUE.

VIRTUE is a subject which deserves your and every man's attention. It consists in doing good, and in speaking truth; the effects of it, therefore, are advantageous to all mankind, and to one's self in particular. Virtue makes us pity and relieve the misfortunes of mankind; it makes us promote justice and good order in society; and, in general, contributes to whatever tends to the real good of mankind. To ourselves it gives an inward comfort and satisfaction, which no­thing else can do, and which nothing can rob us of. All other advantages depend upon others, [Page 94] as much as upon ourselves. Riches, power, and greatness may be taken away from us by the vio­lence and injustice of others, or by inevitable ac­cidents; but virtue depends only upon ourselves, and nobody can take it away from us. Sickness may deprive us of all the pleasures of the body; but it cannot deprive us of our virtue, nor of the satisfaction which we feel from it. A virtuous man, under all the misfortunes of life, still finds an inward comfort and satisfaction, which makes him happier than any wicked man can be with all the other advantages of life. If a man has ac­quired great power and riches by falsehood, in­justice and oppression, he cannot enjoy them: because his conscience will torment him, and con­stantly reproa [...]h him with the means by which he got them. The stings of his conscience will not even let him sleep quietly; but he will dream of his crimes; and in the day [...]time, when alone, and when he has time to think, he will be uneasy and melancholy. He is afraid of every thing; for, as he knows mankind must hate him, he has reason to think they will hurt him if they can. Whereas if a virtuous man be ever so poor and unfortunate in the world, still his virtue is its own reward, and will comfort him under all af­flictions. The quiet and satisfaction of his conscience make him chearful by day, and sleep sound of nights: he can be alone with pleasure, and is not afraid of his own thoughts. Virtue forces her way, and shines through the obscurity, of a retired life; and, sooner or letter, it always is rewarded.

To conclude:—Lord Shaftesbury says, that he would be virtuous for his own sake, though nobody were to know it▪ as he would he clean for his own sake, though nobody were to see him.